


The Debt

by SapphireSmoke



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Female Friendship, Magic-Users, Romantic Rivals, Set directly after the 'threesome' scene, Unbeta'd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 14:15:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17510153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireSmoke/pseuds/SapphireSmoke
Summary: Maybe they owed each other nothing, but there was also the possibility that they owed one anothereverything, because if it hadn’t been for each of their relationships with Geralt, neither would have ever known that they were giving their heart to a man who was unable to give the entirety of it back to them.And that would have been no way to live.





	The Debt

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta:** None  
>  **A/N:** Be aware that I have not read the books (except _The Last Wish_ ), so this is mostly based off the games. Also, I know I usually have my fics beta read, but this was only meant to be a brief distraction while I took a short break from my novel, so fuck it. It is what it is.

 

There should have been a sense of satisfaction from leaving Geralt tied to that damned bed, and yet Yennefer felt nothing.

Oh, she smirked, she _goaded._ She clinked goblets with Triss and pretended to be bitterly amused with the predicament the witcher had got himself into, but inside she just felt… hollow. He _did_ deserve it, of that there was no doubt, but the revenge hadn’t been as sweet as Yennefer had imagined. Her victorious expression fell the moment she left the room, and she crossed the hallway with the intention of barricading herself in the opposite bedroom.

Unfortunately, it seemed Yennefer did not express the desire to be alone well enough, as her silent wish was not heeded.

“He’s still yelling for us,” Triss mentioned, sounding amused. Yennefer could hear the click of the door behind her and she closed her eyes in defeat, her back still facing the other woman in the room. “His cock is probably _killing_ him right now. Good. Stringing us both along like that… he’s such an _ass._ ”

Something inside of Yennefer lurched painfully. “—Get out.”

The mood in the room suddenly shifted, and Yennefer could practically _feel_ how uncomfortable her demand had made the other woman. “I…” Triss tried, but suddenly Yen was _feeling_ something _,_ and the raven-haired sorceress whipped around. Her veins burned as she fought for control over her magick, but this cut _deep_ and suddenly it felt as though a dam had burst inside of her.

“This wasn’t a fucking _game,_ Triss.”

The redheaded woman suddenly looked to be no more than a child. She visibly recoiled as guilt clouded her cornflower eyes, and Yennefer wished that she could take pleasure in Triss’ submission, but pleasure was not something that could be found within her. Not anymore. She felt like she had lost a significant part of herself, and without it, Yennefer did not who she was anymore.

She _hated_ Geralt for that.

“Although perhaps it was for you. A _game_ ,” Yennefer realized, although that hurt even worse. Triss was supposed to be her friend, or at least something close enough to resemble the word. Yennefer had never been great when it came to relationships of any sort, and so perhaps labeling it as something that solid was foolish. Still, that did not change how betrayed she felt. “Is that why you did it? Just to see if you _could?”_

“What? Yenna, _no—”_

Triss looked as though the accusation had gutted her, and the pit of Yennefer’s stomach swirled in despair. She wanted to blame her. It would be _easy_ to blame her, but how could she? Triss wouldn’t have been able to take Geralt from her if the other man hadn’t been willing to walk away in the first place. And it wasn’t as though it was uncommon that Geralt found his cock buried in others, so for Yennefer to find his in Triss? Hardly unsurprising. It was more than that though; it was the way he _looked_ at the other woman. Yennefer slept with her share of other people just as much as Geralt had, but not _once_ did she ever look at another the way she looked at him.

He had been different, and Yennefer had foolishly believed that he thought the same of her.

“You _know_ how Geralt is. You know how he can be, and I am— I am _sorry,_ but I thought… you were supposed to be dead. We _all_ thought you were dead, and so I… I thought, perhaps, that it was… my turn.” Triss’ words dripped with regret, and Yennefer’s lips pursed into a thin line. She had known of Triss’ little infatuation previously, but had never thought much on it. It didn’t seem like something Geralt was interested in.

Oh, how _wrong_ she turned out to be.

“When we found out you were alive, I did— I’ll admit, that for a moment, I wanted to try to dissuade Geralt from finding you,” Triss admitted softly. Her gaze hit the floor, her cheeks coloring in guilt before her eyes found her friend’s once more, her voice becoming stronger with conviction. “But I _didn’t._ In the end, I knew that I could not keep him from you, and that it wouldn’t have been fair to try.”

Yennefer, at the very least, appreciated the other woman’s honesty. She knew it could not have been easy for Triss to step aside, but that was the thing, wasn’t it? She did not step very far. Or, perhaps she had, but Geralt had gone running after her. Either way, the end result was the same.

“But you did anyway, didn’t you?” Yennefer asked rhetorically. She was trying to keep the anger and jealousy from her voice, yet it still seeped between her words anyhow. “ _Keep him from me.”_

“Yes,” Triss admitted softly, but she steeled her resolve and looked the older sorceress in the eye as she finished, “but only as much as you kept him from me.”

Because that was the thing, was it not? Geralt was trying to romance them both. The pompous fool thought he could have it all, and so the two women made certain that he knew he could not. Yennefer knew she sounded as though she were blaming Triss, and perhaps on some level she was, despite knowing that it was not fair to the other woman at all. It was not a good feeling; to have so much anger and despair within her and no way to release it. Getting revenge on Geralt was supposed to sate her, but it did not. It wasn’t even close.

Triss stared at her, her brow creased in upset. She must have felt as though they were on the same team, only for it to be violently ripped from under her once Yennefer realized that this hurt more than she thought it would. Even with lines around the creases of her mouth, the other woman looked incredibly beautiful. _Young._ Much younger than Yennefer appeared, even with her magick. Perhaps that had been part of her appeal. Triss’ fire red hair and bright eyes could seduce even the most resolved of men with just a giggle and smile, and a part of Yennefer envied her for that.

Even when she was younger, she was harsh, domineering, and at times downright _mean._ Yennefer would strip herself of her clothing and _order_ others to pleasure her, yet Triss could just bat her eyelashes and people would trip all over themselves just to service her. Yennefer wondered how she did it, if the other woman was even _aware_ of how she did it.

It was that curiosity that caused Yennefer to close the distance between them, her palm slipping over an alabaster canvass littered with freckles as she cupped the other woman’s face. Triss’ lashes immediately hit her cheeks at the unexpected gesture and she sucked in a sharp breath, causing Yennefer to wonder, for a brief moment, if the young sorceress was as easily captivated as the others she hopelessly ensnared.

“A part of me wants to ask ‘why you’, but something tells me I know better than even _you_ do.”

Triss opened her eyes then and looked up at the woman who held her like putty in her hands. “Then tell me,” she implored, her gaze searching Yennefer’s face as though it held an answer she had been desperately reaching for herself. Her brow knit, and Triss’ voice came out soft, confused. “Because I still don’t understand why anyone would choose a spark, when they have the option of being consumed in a raging fire.”

Yennefer’s stomach tightened at those words. Was that truly how Triss saw her? As something bigger, something _grander_ than herself?

No response followed that confession. Instead, Yennefer watched the other woman carefully as she slowly allowed her thumb to drag across the expanse of the sorceress’ bottom lip. Triss’ eyes darkened, her jaw falling slack as she no doubt tried to work out what Yennefer’s game was. Whatever it was though, her eagerness to play it showed through. It caused Yennefer’s brow to knit as she realized that perhaps Geralt was not the only one that Triss yearned for. _Interesting._

“Show me.”

Triss’ eyes widened, the confusion evident on her face from the unexpected command. “Wha—?”

“Show me,” Yennefer repeated, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Show me what it is that Geralt sees in you. I want to know. I want to feel what he feels, I want to see you as he does. Perhaps then I can finally understand, and make peace with what he has done to me. What he has done to us both.”

Triss noticeably swallowed, her breathing beginning to thin as she looked up at the other woman, no doubt wondering if this wasn’t just another cruel joke, an intricate revenge plan to get back at _her_ now that they had dealt with Geralt. A part of Yennefer wished that it was; it would have been so much easier to just tear Triss apart and leave her in tatters on the floor, but what would be the point? It may satisfy her for a moment, but moments were fleeting. Yennefer wanted her satisfaction, her _peace_ to last.

Triss still looked hesitant, but after a small breath she allowed her hand to reach up and wrap around the one that lay delicately against her cheek. Triss did not break eye contact as she gently pulled it from her face, her fingers weaving between Yennefer’s as she encouraged her to let their clasped hands hang by their side before she finally, slowly, began to bring her face closer to the other woman’s.

Yennefer did not move, did not meet her halfway. Instead she watched in interest as a myriad of emotions played across Triss’ face as the young woman tried to fight with her nerves, her paranoia, so that she could take what she so obviously wanted. And it was strange to think of Triss desiring her - especially after what had happened with Geralt - but perhaps Yennefer had been blind to not have seen it before. Triss did not just envy her energy, her power, but she wished to be consumed by it herself, as she no doubt wondered the same thing about Yennefer as _Yennefer_ was about her now. Triss wondered the same question that taunted and tore at them both, the same question that would cause them to come together in order to find an answer:

_‘Why her?’_

Their lips came together, but it was barely more than a feather’s touch. It caused Yennefer to release a breath that had been trapped in her chest, and when Triss’ mouth gently closed around her bottom lip the older woman’s eyes fell closed, her brow knitting due to the tentative exploration. _Surely_ this was not how she was with Geralt, or else Yennefer did not understand why the man wanted to fuck _her_ into the floorboards, or atop a stuffed bloody unicorn, when he apparently craved something more mundane. Had he grown tired of slattern bed maidens, and instead wished to find something more innocent, more… whatever _this_ was supposed to be?

Whatever it was though, Yennefer knew that it was fake. It had to be. She had heard too many tales for this to be who Triss _really_ was.

Besides, Yennefer hated how the woman was making her heart thump uncomfortably beneath her ribs, and so she cut it short as her hand wrapped around Triss’ throat. The redhead’s eyes went wide, yet as there wasn’t a terrible amount of pressure, she did not fight against the hold. “I asked you to make me feel how you make _him_ feel,” Yennefer reminded her, her tone a little more dangerous than it was before. “You are not some silly virgin. Keira has told me _tales_ of what your tongue can do between a spread pair of thighs, and yet you expect me to believe that when you kiss him you act like some nervous schoolgirl who’s never had her cunt touched before?”

“I wasn’t kissing him,” Triss reminded her, although her cheeks did turn a bit pink below the indignant glare that was beginning to etch across her brow. “I was kissing _you.”_

“I _asked—”_

“I don’t care what you asked.”

Yennefer’s brow rose, her grip immediately slackening around the other woman’s throat before she allowed her hand to fall back down to her side. Triss had looked so _timid_ when she kissed her that the sudden conviction behind her voice threw her. “I don’t _want_ to know why I wasn’t enough, and you shouldn’t either,” Triss told her, although her voice had thinned a little bit as her own emotions began to catch up with her. She rubbed the length of her throat, and for a brief moment Yennefer felt horribly, as she apparently put more strength into that hold than she meant to. “I think, in the end, it would just destroy us both. It would make us believe that we aren’t good enough, and no one should ever make us believe that.”

Yennefer’s lips pursed into a thin line. Triss had a point, and she hated that, as it meant the wisdom did not come from her first. Had she truly become that pathetic, that she would allow a _man_ to do this to her? Yennefer cursed the day the djinn came into her life; perhaps if she had never gone after it, had never tried to trap it for her own gains, then they would have never found themselves in this predicament in the first place. Geralt would have just passed in and out of her life, and she would not be left with a broken heart.

“And I don’t… I don’t want this to be about _him_ either,” Triss finished softly, her strength laying waste to her nerves once more as she voiced an admission that she did not know for certain would be received well. “Geralt has taken enough from me, from _both_ of us. I don’t… want him to take this too.”

Yennefer tried to act flippant, but the strain in her own voice gave her away. She had thought she had control over this situation but, come to find out, she very much did not. “And what, exactly, do you believe this _is?”_

Triss swallowed, but Yennefer could see the determination in her eyes once more as this time, she did not hesitate. Her hand cupped the brunette’s cheek as she brought Yennefer’s mouth to meet her own, the pressure of this kiss bruising in comparison to the last. Yennefer wanted to stop it, to take control of the situation back because this was just supposed to be about her playing with her newfound realization that Triss was attracted to her, and yet as there was another part of Yennefer that just _ached_ to fall into something, into some _body_ who wanted her and only her in that moment, suddenly the sorceress’ back was being pressed against the dresser and she was gasping into a mouth that did not belong to the man that she loved, because fuck it.

_Fuck it._

Triss hissed in pain as Yennefer allowed her nails to dig into the other woman’s back, but instead of stopping, the redhead retaliated with a deep bite to the sorceress’ bottom lip. “— _Fuck_ ,” Yennefer swore, the word coming out more like a deep moan. Triss’ lips fell to her throat then, and Yennefer rolled her head back as her fingers tore the ties out of the younger woman’s hair, allowing it to cascade down her back in a wave of fire. “I thought you wished to go about this like some trembling _virgin_ —”

“I am _not_ a—” Triss began indignantly, but quickly realized that Yennefer already knew that, and so she begrudgingly admitted, “You… made me nervous. Before. I didn’t know what you wanted, what you were trying to do. If you were going to pretend to fuck me and then leave, just as we did to him.”

“And now?” Yennefer asked breathlessly, feeling the other woman trace the shell of her ear with her tongue. It gave her goosebumps, and the sorceress noticeably shuddered. She could feel Triss smile against her skin - smile because she _knew_ exactly what it was that she was doing to her, and Yennefer wished she could hate it.  Her life would be so much easier, wouldn’t it, if she could find that she never had need of anyone anymore?

But she did, and what was more was that Triss _knew_ that she did. She was, perhaps, just as lonely, just as lost as Yennefer was, and because of that, they seemed to have found a kindred spirit in one another.

“Now I know what you want. Now… I know what this is.”

She kissed her again, and this time, Yennefer matched Triss’ eagerness without prompting. What did it matter anyway, how they found their peace? How they moved on from one life to another? Maybe they owed each other nothing, but there was also the possibility that they owed one another _everything_ , because if it hadn’t been for each of their relationships with Geralt, neither would have ever known that they were giving their heart to a man who was unable to give the entirety of it back to them.

And that would have been _no_ way to live.

Down the hall, Geralt could be heard yelling for Dandelion in some last ditch attempt to be set free. Yennefer wished to drown him out, to forget him entirely, and so she pulled away from Triss for a brief moment in order to hoist herself atop the flat surface of the dresser. With one firm hand on the redhead’s shoulder, she encouraged Triss to go where she needed her to, and the heated tingle from the other woman’s magick began to dance against her skin as the younger of the two dematerialized the rest of their clothing, leaving them bare.

Yennefer exhaled a shuddered breath and leaned back on her palms as Triss roughly spread her legs, the young sorceress wasting no time in getting to what it was she desired from her. The redhead’s mouth closed around the apex of her thighs, and Yennefer’s knuckles flashed white as she clawed at the surface of the wooden dresser. “Mmm,” she hummed appreciatively, her eyes falling closed as she allowed herself to succumb to the feeling. “Keira was _not_ wrong…”

Yennefer hissed in pain as Triss bit the inside of her thigh in response to that, and suddenly the raven-haired woman was chuckling as she looked down at the woman beneath her, all thoughts of Geralt practically forgotten — at least for the moment. “What? It was a _compliment.”_

“Believe me,” Triss drawled as she rose to her full height once more, causing the corners of Yennefer’s mouth to turn down into a frown as she realized she might have just screwed up her chances of getting brought to orgasm from the woman’s mouth. One day she should really learn how to just lie back and shut her mouth, although Yennefer knew better than to hold her breath over it. “You do not want me repeating the stories I’ve heard of _your_ sexual exploits from the women of The Lodge, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention mine.”

Yennefer scoffed. “Who? Margarita?”

“Philippa.”

Oh. _Right._ Yeah, that was a right mess, and one Yennefer would rather not have mentioned again. It was more of a fight than sex, and one that neither of them truly won. She didn’t want to think about it though, as it was during a dark time for her, and somewhere in her deluded mind, Yennefer had believed sex with Philippa would fix it.

It had not.

“Well whatever it was that she told you, assume it was _greatly_ exaggerated to come off more in her favor.”

Triss smirked, her hand snaking between their bodies to find the slick heat of Yennefer’s center. The older woman sucked in a sharp breath, feeling a couple fingers slowly slide inside of her. “Trust me, I know better than to believe _everything_ that Philippa Eilhart tells me.” Her fingers twisted inside of her then and Yennefer exhaled a breathless gasp, her fingers closing around the other woman’s bicep. “But I _am_ curious to find out if you’re as vocal as she claims you are.”

“That gossipy little _bitch—”_ But the curse was drowned out by her own loud moan as Yennefer proved both Philippa and Triss right in an embarrassingly short amount of time. It didn’t matter though; not much mattered right then other than the way Triss forced her fingers in an out of her, her thrusts powerful yet precise as her hooked digits hit that sweet spot inside of the sorceress again and again.

The dresser Yennefer was atop of had once rested nicely against the wall, yet now it banged loudly against it with each push of Triss’ hand. The rhythmic pounding finally drowned out Geralt’s incessant yelling for _someone_ to just come untie him, and Yennefer wrapped her legs around the younger woman’s body, using her as leverage as she allowed her hips to meet Triss thrust for thrust.

Eventually, Yennefer’s breath caught in the back of her throat as the pleasure began to overwhelm her, almost causing the woman to choke on another loud moan as her fingers sought for purchase against Triss’ supple flesh. The elder sorceress grasped for the back of the other woman’s neck then, colliding their mouths in a passionate kiss that left Yennefer gasping against the redhead’s lips. Triss bit down her bottom lip just as she corkscrewed her fingers inside of her, and finally, Yennefer _screamed._

It almost sounded as though the skies had opened up and thunder had reigned down upon them; it was something low, primal, and guttural. It was also the one and only warning to the massive orgasm she was about to experience.

Yennefer’s mouth fell open again, but this time her scream was silent. She could feel her eyes roll in the back of her head before her entire body violently shuddered in the redhead’s arms, allowing her to release all the tension that Triss had caused her to build. The force of it left Yennefer gasping, her forehead resting gently against the other woman’s as she tried to get her bearings on her surroundings.

In the background, Yennefer could hear Dandelion let out a hearty chuckle. He must have found Geralt.

Yennefer swore.

“What?” Triss asked, apparently much too focused on what was in front of her to notice what was behind her. Typical. Triss had always been a powerful sorceress, especially for how _young_ she was, but she still had a lot to learn - especially when it came to situational awareness.

“We’re about to have company and, I don’t know about you, but I don’t particularly care for any right now,” Yennefer answered, her breathing still a little labored as she allowed herself to slip off of the dresser, her feet landing lightly on the floor. It was then that Triss looked behind her, finally _hearing_ what was going on. Yennefer’s lips etched into a deep frown. “Unless you _want…?”_

“No.” Triss was quick to answer, turning from the doorway to face Yennefer once more. “The only company I want is… is already here.” Her cheeks turned a little pink, and the redhead immediately averted her gaze.

And oh, how Yennefer _wished_ that didn’t make her feel something. This was a foolish endeavor, and one that was certain to end in more pain, and yet that did not stop the sorceress from holding out her hand to the other woman in offering as the other rose upwards, bringing with it a swirling portal to somewhere with far more privacy. The strength of the portal’s magick caused Yennefer’s raven hair to whip around her face, and Triss looked at her for a long time before she glanced downward, making her final decision as she took the offered hand into her own.

Yennefer pulled Triss towards her, and suddenly they were falling through space.

It was intense, but it was brief; much like their intended fling would no doubt become. In that moment though, Yennefer did not care about the repercussions of their actions, and as their feet hit solid ground she wasted no time in pushing the redhead a few steps backward until Triss’ knees made contact with the edge of a bed. She fell, taking Yennefer with her, who slid a leg on either side of her hips.

“Where are we?”

“Does it matter?”

No, it did not seem to. Triss shook her head, not even bothering to take another glance around as she reached for the woman atop her. She was so _foolish_ sometimes; Yennefer could have brought her anywhere, could have been playing a long game and planned an intricate revenge, and yet Triss just fell into her arms without a thought or care. For that reason alone, Yennefer _wished_ she had something sinister planned, as perhaps Triss needed to learn this lesson before someone else did it and she ultimately got herself killed, but the problem was… she didn’t. She was being _genuine,_ which was the most sickening thing about all of this.

Yennefer tried not to think of her own shortcomings though, and instead left Triss with a searing kiss before she made her way down the other woman’s body, settling herself between the redhead’s thighs. _One_ of them was going to get an orgasm this way, at the very least. The first time her lips wrapped around Triss’ clit the woman exhaled a sound that was almost akin to a strangled whine. Yennefer felt hands in her hair as the young sorceress encouraged her mouth deeper against her sex, pushing her hips hard enough to nearly make the elder sorceress suffocate from the force of it. It was for that reason that Yennefer pressed her hands against the other woman’s thighs, forcefully holding Triss in place as she made it very clear that it would be _she_ who set the pace today.

Triss practically whimpered, her hips straining desperately against her hold.

“I really hope you aren’t used to getting your way, because you won’t be. Not anymore. Not with _me.”_

But instead of discouraging Triss, it seemed those words only turned her own more. She exhaled a needy groan, followed by a submissive, “You can do whatever you want to me, Yenna.” Yennefer smiled. She liked the sound of that, and it _certainly_ gave her back some of that control that she had lost earlier. And of course, of _course_ it was stupid of them both to do this, to be this way - _especially_ with one another - but it seemed they were sating themselves on a steady diet of _stupid_ lately, so fuck it.

 _Fuck it._ That seemed to be her motto lately.

“Well right now I plan to fuck that beautiful cunt of yours with my mouth, but I can’t very well do that if you keep _squirming,_ now can I?” Yennefer told her, accenting her point as she dug her fingers into Triss’ thighs. It made the girl beneath her whimper and squirm. “So keep still, or I won’t finish you. Is that understood?”

Triss swallowed and hastily nodded her compliance, trying much harder this time to keep her body still. There was something devastatingly _powerful_ in having control over the woman who had come between her and the man that she loved, but even as Yennefer realized it, the thought of taking advantage of that sickened her. It wasn’t Triss’ fault. Yennefer hated that she had to keep reminding herself of that, but her emotions were a whirlwind tonight and one second she was thinking of him, missing _him,_ and the next all she yearned for was to see was Geralt in the rear view of her life, with _Triss_ being the one in front as they led each other out of the darkness of _his_ making.

But fuck the stupidity of them both, right? Yennefer didn’t want to analyze it, and so she opted to ignore it completely as she spread Triss with her fingers, her lips connecting with supple flesh as she sucked the other woman’s tender nub into her mouth. Triss whined and threw her arms above her head, grasping onto the edge of the bed as she only slightly lifted her hips to Yennefer’s mouth. She was trying to control herself, but it seemed the task was rather overwhelming for her as Triss continued to pant out her pleasure, her hands grasping for the bed, for herself, for Yennefer’s hair.

“ _Fuck,_ Yenna, you’re— _oh…”_

Triss wasn’t quite as loud when it came to her moans, but she was certainly more verbal than Yennefer was. She gasped her name like a mantra, her chest beginning to flush a deep rose the closer she got to climax. Yennefer took pleasure in watching Triss try to steady her hips as the sounds she exhaled became more high-pitched, more desperate, more _needy._

“You poor thing,” Yennefer goaded after she had come up for air. “Do you need to come?”

It was rhetorical, of course. Yennefer wasn’t _that_ cruel, and so she slipped her thumb over Triss’ engorged nub, instantly causing the woman beneath her to fall to pieces before her. Yennefer found she quite liked watched Triss become undone; her entire face turned as red as a tomato and her hips involuntarily twitched as her body rode out the high that the other sorceress had allotted her. When she was finished, strands of red hair stuck to a sweaty forehead and Yennefer, not quite knowing what came over herself, climbed up the other woman’s body to wipe them away.

They settled in beside each other then, the only sound in the room being the slow in and out of their breathing. Neither seemed to know what to say. It was Triss who spoke first however, her voice sounding a little strained as she hesitantly asked, “…Would you like me to leave now?”

“No.”

Triss’ eyes snapped over to meet Yennefer’s. While Triss’ were hopeful, Yennefer’s were clouding in defense. She _really_ was not enjoying whatever it was that this was becoming. Or, to be more truthful, it seemed she was enjoying it far _too_ much, which was exactly the problem.

“I know this is merely a coping mechanism to deal with what we both have lost tonight, but perhaps we… shouldn’t.”

Triss’ eyebrows knit in confusion. “But you just said you didn’t want me to leave.”

“I _don’t,”_ Yennefer begrudgingly admitted. She rolled on her side to face the other woman, placing her elbow on the mattress and her hand in her hair in order to prop up her head. She looked down at the beautiful face of her next mistake, and Yennefer prodded, “That’s a problem, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Considering I never believed you would give me a second glance, I have to be honest and say I don’t feel like it’s a problem at all.”

Yennefer exhaled an exasperated breath. “What is it with you? Do you not own a mirror? First, you compare yourself to a mere spark in the wake of my apparent ‘fiery’ presence, and now this. Self-deprecation isn’t cute, you know.”

Triss rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t trying to be— forget it.” She tried to sit up then, but one firm push of her shoulder brought her right back down to the bed. The redhead’s brow rose, looking up at the woman who apparently aimed to keep her trapped there.

“You’re beautiful,” Yennefer told her, although it sounded more like she was reprimanding Triss than complimenting her. Regardless of her intentions though, she watched Triss’ cheeks color a light pink at her words. “And you’re a right idiot if you don’t see that. Don’t ever let me hear that shite again; I haven’t the patience.”

Triss exhaled a disbelieving laugh, causing the other woman to look down at her. “You think I say those things because I don’t believe myself to be beautiful enough?”

“ _Powerful_ enough, then?”

“It isn’t about magick either,” Triss told her and this time, when she tried to sit up, Yennefer allowed it. The redhead shifted her position in order to better face her newfound lover, and Yennefer could not help but notice the way the candlelight danced beautifully across the young woman’s skin. She found herself staring, but only realized she was when Triss spoke again. “You’re… _you._ You have a reputation that almost supersedes your reality; you and Geralt are in Dandelion’s fucking ballads and it seems everyone knows your name. Who am I next to that? So I just meant that you… always felt rather untouchable to me. That’s all.”

“…Oh.”

Perhaps that made some measure of sense then. Dandelion and his bloody songs _did_ make her romance with Geralt out to be this legendary thing that it seemed far, _far_ too many people knew about, but that had been the problem, hadn’t it? In the end, the reality of what they had just didn’t live up to the fantasy, and everything crumbled apart. Yennefer’s lips pursed into a thin line. It seemed utterly ridiculous considering Yennefer knew herself but maybe, from an outside perspective, she seemed a bit quixotic.

“Well… it seems ‘untouchable’ I am _not,_ considering you touched me many times tonight, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Triss giggled. “How could I?” Her short laugh relaxed into a smile then, and she looked at the woman across from her in a way that made Yennefer realize that perhaps she had been concerned for nothing, as it certainly did not seem like Triss was putting her up on any kind of pedestal anymore. “It just seemed surreal for a moment. That was all. But _no,_ I still don’t consider it to be a problem. Fuck Geralt.”

Yennefer quirked one of her eyebrows, and Triss inhaled a breath.

“ _Fuck_ him. Fuck him for doing this to us! And fuck him for making us feel like we shouldn’t be dealing with it with one another, just because of our relationship with _him._ He doesn’t own us. Besides, no one else knows how I’m feeling but you. If I’m to share this utter breakdown in sanity with anyone, I want it to be with you.”

Yennefer smirked. “ _Romantic.”_

“Maybe it is,” Triss countered, which nearly made Yennefer choke on her tongue, because she was _not_ suggesting— “Maybe it’s not. But that’s for us to find out, not for him. _Fuck_ Geralt. Do something stupid with me today, Yennefer.” She held out her hand in offering then, and Yennefer hesitated in taking it, although not because she did not want to.

“Just for today?”

She despised herself for wanting more than that, yet there it was.

“Today. Tomorrow. A month from now? I don’t care. Just don’t make me do this alone,” Triss pleaded, looking at Yennefer like she might actually be the answer to her problems. Yennefer, on the other hand, was certain that this would only cause more, and yet like the _idiot_ that she was, she took Triss’ hand into her own, and the redhead pulled her until their lips met in another lingering kiss. When they broke, Yennefer felt as though her breath had been stolen from her, and she looked at the woman who was asking her to free fall into an abyss of the unknown.

And yet, she never hesitated when she told her, “I would never make you do it alone, Triss.”

Because Yennefer had a debt to pay to the woman who made her realize that she was throwing her life away on a man who did not love her, and she would be _damned_ if she did not pay it in full.

**THE END**


End file.
